Upside Down

Hmm! Two chappies in two days.

distinctlyME - *blushes* Um....I knew there was something I meant to add to the last chapter. Truly I meant to address that....but it was late and my brain was mush. My updates are usually late at night or early in the morning, and I tend to forget things that I really wanted to put in there. But as soon as I read your review, I was sparked. So...I quickly got this chappie written and decided to post it early, as a treat for being such good reviewers. It's not terribly long, but it should cover old Voldie's reaction quite nicely...

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Since calling his Death Eater Guards off of Ruby, Voldemort had been in his throne room, a parchment suspended before him, scratching a list of changes he needed to make within his ranks in order to take over the Magical world.

First, he needed to use that little half-blood American to keep the Order off of his scent. He’d get back Rodolphus as well, and torture the traitorous bastard until he begged for death. Then, he’d feed him to Nagini one piece at a time.

He was relishing the thought of ripping the man apart when one of the guards came rushing into the room, his face deathly pale.

“My Lord! The American girl is gone! She just….just…disappeared!” he cried. Voldemort knocked the parchment aside, and stood to his feet immediately.

“WHAT?!” he roared. The guard shrank back immediately, his pupils dilating with fear.

“She….disappeared…” the guard tried again. Voldemort was upon the guard within seconds. He had his wand drawn, and grabbed the guard by his robes, pulling him close and dressing his wand violently against the guard’s throat. The guard was shaking, his pupils no more than a pinprick, and his face a sickly ash color. “She….” But he didn’t finish his sentence. Voldemort made a slashing motion with his wand, and the guards head was severed clean, rolling backwards as Voldemort was sprayed with the arterial spray.

He headed towards the surveillance station that he had set up to watch Ruby, the blood of the dead guard dripping from his face. He stormed into the room, throwing open the door with a loud smack. There was just the one guard there, watching an empty spot on the floor through a magic mirror.

“My Lord….” The guard started. Several slashes of Voldemort’s wand later, and the guard lay in shredded ribbons on the floor, blood covering the floor and walls, and the intestines and bones of the unfortunate guard spread in a disgusting mess.

Voldemort then made his way to the room she had been kept in, blasting and killing any unfortunate Death Eater that got in his way. He came into the room, looking at the two Death Eaters that had come in before him with deathly venom in his glare. They tried to ease away from him, but he turned, his eyes glowing brighter with unadulterated fury.

“How?” he whispered.

“My Lord…we….were…um….trying to figure….f-figure it out…” one said shakily. Voldemort’s wand twitched, and the Death Eater’s head exploded, spraying blood, bone and brains over Voldemort and the other Death Eater, who cowered before his Master. Voldemort then attempted to use an altered version of the Priori Incantatum to discover what kind of magic Ruby had used to escape, but since he had just used his wand to pop off the head of one of his Death Eaters, he was treated to a phantom replay of the man’s head exploding.

Voldemort stood still for several minutes, staring at the place where he had left Ruby, broken and bleeding, on the floor. Within the course of only about ten minutes, all of his planning had gone down the drain. His perfect plan of revenge on Rodolphus had been fucked over, and he no longer had the screams of the little American bitch to amuse him.

He looked at the cowering Death Eater.

“Follow me.” He snapped. He made his way to the deep, dark bowels of the stronghold, stopping at a rusty iron door. He pushed the door open, startling another Death Eater who was perched nearby on a chair. In the room were several torture devices. A full-sized iron maiden, a whipping post, and several other equally horrifying devices were scattered about the room, and the room itself smelled of death and old blood, and the floor was indeed covered in both dry and congealing blood. But Voldemort approached the iron maiden.

“Inside.” He hissed at the Death Eater, whose eyes widened, the whites showing abnormally.

“My Lord….please….” he begged. Voldemort flicked his wand angrily, and the Death Eater was thrust against the back of the wooden structure, and the thick leather restraints tied him. Then, Voldemort physically shut the heavy wooden door, his anger easing a bit when he heard the agonized screams of the Death Eater.

The other guard was impressed. That door was heavy as hell, and he had never seen Voldemort do anything physically. He was strong…

“My Lord?” the guard inquired gingerly. It wouldn’t do to get locked up in that thing with Farnes.

“What, Goble?” he asked, turning his crimson gaze on the man.

“Might I be so bold as to inquire what has displeased my Lord so much that he must entertain himself by torturing a lowly guard?” he asked.

Voldemort looked at Goble for a few seconds, and then sighed.

“Do you know of the American witch that I held prisoner here?” he inquired.

“Yes, my Lord. I heard of her, but I never partook of her…bounties….My orders were, and are, to guard the dungeons and oversee the tortures. And I enjoy my orders very much.” The Death Eater said, inkling his head towards his Master.

“Yes…You have served me well here in the dungeons. Would you enjoy helping your Lord in a bit of private business? It won’t be common knowledge among my flock, but I need a trusted servant to aide me.” Voldemort said, looking sideways at the grungy guard. Goble nearly pissed himself with excitement. The dungeons were fun, but this was a direct mission, one that he would be actively serving with his Master. Hells yes he wanted in on this.

“I would be honored, my Lord.”

The next several days Goble worked almost by Voldemort’s side in coming up with a plan that would finally initiate the Final Battle. It had been a long time coming, and Voldemort was truthfully a bit eager to finally kill Harry Potter and go on with his dominion over the Wizarding World.

He would finally enact his revenge on the American as well, and have her mudblood cousin taken down a peg or two. Then he would deal with his wayward servant.

It was a pity that he had to kill Bellatrix. She had been a fierce asset to his ranks. And t was even more lamentable that he had taken out the Malfoy family as well. Pureblood lives were to be mourned when they were lost, even if the Dark Lord had taken them himself. He wondered briefly if Lucius’ and Bellatrix’s bodies were decomposing well. He’d check that out immediately.

He left Goble at the stronghold to plan some insignificant part of the Final Battle. It really was a hoot to see how the man’s eyes had lit up when Voldemort suggested he help plan that…

~~

He appeared in front of Malfoy Manor, walking disdainfully up the walkway, and pushing open the front door unceremoniously. Hmm…he didn’t smell decay. But then again, he had closed off the room, and warded it against house elves.

He walked up the stairs to Lucius’ study, and paused when he saw the door open. His wandering Death Eaters wouldn’t have opened that door. Even if they had looted the Manor (which they hadn’t under Voldemort’s orders) they would have looted other rooms. Lucius’ study had nothing more than parchment and quills. Some books, yes, but it was a functional room first and foremost.

He walked into the room, and looked around. He pushed the door back, and stared blankly at the place where Bellatrix had been pinned down. The place was clean, and the hole left by the sword was repaired. He then went behind the sofa, staring at the immaculate spot where Lucius had lain.

“No.” he whispered. They were gone, and there was not a trace of them left in this room. A small pop behind him brought him out of his reverie, and he turned to see a house-elf staring at him.

“The master is not here. And you is not welcome.” The house elf said, trying its best to look menacing. Voldemort was extremely pissed off to have been told off by a house elf.

“How dare you, you filthy little creature!” he hissed, his red eyes lighting up with fury. He tried to cast a spell at the elf, only to find his arm wouldn’t move. House elf magic was complex and not easily blocked once a house elf was pissed off. And this one looked right incensed.

“The snake man comes into masters house and hurts master! Then snake man makes it to where the elves can’t help master! Master is dying and elves can’t help. We loses lots of house elves those days. Then, the young master comes home with the mistress of the house! The people can enter the masters study, but the elves can’t. They take the master, and the dark lady away. But the master lives. We knows the master lives. And the snake man is not welcome!” the elf said, and snapped its fingers.

Voldemort found himself standing in front of the gate to Malfoy Manor, and the gate locked and warded with strong house-elf magic.

The young master…the mistress of the house…Draco and Narcissa were not dead. They had come back, and had retrieved the corpses….no….Lucius, at least, was still alive. He was unsure about Bella…Rodolphus had acted out….

The Malfoys were alive. Damn it. Damn it all to the lowest levels of hell. This could complicate things worse than he ever imagined. The Malfoys had been privy to things that no one else had. And Bella…she was a walking secret. She knew more about him than most would ever dream. If she was alive…

Son-of-a-fucking-bitch! He needed to torture somebody, and he needed to do it now!
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Uh oh....Voldemort's quite a piece of work isn't he? Somebody's gonna get fucked over BAD.

Anyway....you've read, now rate/review.....better yet....rate AND review.